TIME is never wasted listening to the trees;
If to heaven so grandly we arose as these,
Holding toward each other half their kindly grace,
Haply we were worthier of our human place.
Bending down to meet you on the hillside path,
Birch and oak and maple each his welcome hath;
Each his own fine cadence, his familiar word,
By the ear accustomed, always plainly heard.
Every tree gives answer to some different mood,
This one helps you climbing; that for the rest is good;
Beckoning friends, companions, sentinels they are;
Good to live and die with, good to greet afar.